Time went on, a general election was pending, and late one evening the dialler was driven up to Mr. Serjeantson's door by a neighbour, who had fetched him out of a public-house, and urged the squire to keep him, or he would vote wrong.

More than half of those were signed up by Sherman's team through an automated "demon dialler" phone fan out, in which respondents would answer the phone to hear a recorded message and then, if they so desired, could punch a number to sign up.